


Sequin Shorts and a Boa (PRIDE)

by totallyrandom



Series: LGBTQ Days [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Cooks, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Graduate Student Derek, Idiots in Love, LGBTQ Pride, Living Together, M/M, Pride, Pride Parade, Schmoop, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 06:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrandom/pseuds/totallyrandom
Summary: “The students want me to wear sequin shorts and a boa and ride on the float with them this year.”





	Sequin Shorts and a Boa (PRIDE)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride, y'all! I don't love this fic title. Let me know if you have a better one?

Derek has his nose in a book and several more open on the coffee table, as usual, when Stiles finally drags himself through the front door at 7:30 and plops down on the couch sideways, letting his head hang back over the arm with a groan.

Derek doesn’t say anything, just turns the page before giving Stiles’s leg a squeeze. They stay like that until Derek reaches the end of the chapter and tucks a receipt in to mark his place before looking over to see that Stiles hasn’t moved at all.

“You’ll get a headache.” 

Stiles huffs. “About 3 hours late for that.” 

“Advil?” 

“If I can’t have blackout curtains and three days of sleep.” He sits up slowly, eyes squeezed closed. “Fuuuuuuuck. Yeah, Advil. … Thanks.” 

He gives Stiles’s leg a pat and gets up. He has to nudge Stiles’s shoulder and press the pills and a glass of water into Stiles’s hands since his eyes are still closed. He moves quietly to shut the blinds and put on some soothing music before settling against the arm of the couch. He gently pulls Stiles’s limp body to nestle against his chest so he can rub his temples lightly in rhythmic, soothing circles. 

Stiles drops his head back onto Derek’s shoulder and lets out a quiet sigh of relief. Derek presses a quick kiss to his cheek before moving on to massaging his neck. It’s still a few minutes more before the tension slips away and Stiles opens his eyes. 

“Heeeeeeeey,” he says over his shoulder. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“No. Maybe after we eat.” 

Derek’s mouth scrunches up and his hands falter. “I forgot—” 

“Hey, no, it’s fine. We can just order in again.”

“But the vegetables will go bad. Should’ve cooked them two days ago. I just … Dammit.” 

“Dude, it’s an eggplant and some peppers, not the end of the world. Though maybe no CSA next summer while you’re writing your dissertation?” 

“Cooking’s a nice break.”

“When you take one.”

“When I take one.” He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “Pizza, kimchi stew, or black pepper beef?” 

“Pizza. Order extra. I didn’t even have time to microwave my lunch today. At least I can shovel in lukewarm pizza between sessions the rest of the week.” 

Derek frowns at him but gives him a quick hug before getting up to place a quiet call from the kitchen. Shaking his head in disapproval of himself, he gets started on the lasagna he should have made hours ago. Stiles groans at the sound of vegetables being chopped.

“Go nap until I get this in the oven.” 

“Yeah, ok.” 

Stiles stumbles back into the living room half an hour later when the doorbell wakes him. 

“Does no one knock anymore? Fucksake! … Ooooooh, food!”

Derek already has the coffee table cleared with two slices waiting on Stiles’s plate. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good tonight, oh my god,” Stiles mumbles around the half slice of pizza that’s crammed into his mouth. 

Derek snorts. “How about you get a full night’s sleep and I’ll take a raincheck this weekend.”

Stiles drops the rest of the pizza and collapses on Derek’s chest, smearing greasy kisses all over his face. Derek chuckles and holds him loosely until Stiles’s stomach growls and he goes back to attacking the pizza. Derek doesn’t complain as he wipes at the grime on his cheeks and chin. 

“I’m glad you’re letting the beard grow out again,” Stiles mumbles, mouth full again. “The salt-and-pepper thing you have going is very distinguished. It’s definitely time to embrace it, even if it makes people think you’re my older brother. Which, I mean, we don’t even look anything alike. People are idiots.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

Stiles shrugs. He finishes his fourth slice and slumps backward to rub at his new food baby. 

“That might be a world speed record.” Derek pokes him in the belly.

“Ow! I kind of missed lunch today.” His mouth twists unhappily. “And breakfast.”

“You missed lunch yesterday too.”

“I know. Hell Week is gonna be the fucking death of me. If I survive, I might just skip the parade. Someone else can film the float for the Pride Center this year.” 

“Sure you will.” 

“Seriously. I don’t even wanna go anymore,” he grumps. “Pride is supposed to be happy and all I want to do is murder the person who’s booking so many sessions every day.” 

“Idiot. That person is you.”

“Between the ogres last week, and the seniors stressing over finals next week, and grad students trying to get their research proposals in, and first years squealing about finally getting to go to their first parade but then freaking out about where they can stay for the week after the dorms close, and ‘omg should I come out to my parents this summer or wait until after graduation because what if they stop paying my tuition?’ And of course it’s a disaster because they can’t find the perfect outfit for the Pride float, and they can’t read their Biology notes from last week, and their lab partner disappeared a month ago, and they ran out of condoms last week but just ‘really needed to blow off some steam you know how it is right?’ And now they’re both worried about their test results—uh, STIs, not classes—and then ‘Should I ask JJ out before Pride or is too late because they’re going home for summer and they live on the other side of the country’ and and and …” 

Stiles groans pitifully. “Seriously, I can’t fucking wait for this semester to be over already and the campus to clear out. June makes we want to fucking quit counseling altogether, not just at the Pride Center. Like all of it. Am I still under the age limit for the police academy? No, I don’t think so. Oh well. But I swear to the fae queen, if I stay I’m calling in sick for the entire month of June next year.” 

“You say that every year.”

“And the end of May too. Maybe everything after midterms. … And fuck you; I do not,” he pouts. “Ok, I do. But why does it feeeeeeeeel so much worse this year?” 

“Does it?” 

“Yes! Maybe. Argh, I’m too ooooooooold for this shit, Derek.” 

“You’re 36.” 

“Ancient!” 

“The nursing home by the Sheriff looks nice.” 

“Stop calling him that. Dad gets all puffed up about it. He retired a year and a half ago! Stop feeding his ego.”

“Sure.” 

Stiles groans again. “The students want me to wear sequin shorts and a boa and ride on the float with them this year.” 

“What.” 

“And a shirt, obviously. They said if they all pull at least a 2.8 I have to do it.” 

“Have to?” 

“Yeah. I mean, they caught me at a weak moment. At the time it seemed like a good incentive for them to quit worrying and finish studying.” 

“You’re bribing them with sequins?” 

Stiles lets out a long sigh. “Wasn’t my idea, dude.” 

“What color boa?” 

“Trans flag, obviously.” 

“Not sure I even want to see the pictures.”

Stiles just blinks at him, lips turning down. “You’re not gonna need pictures. You’re gonna be there.” 

Derek just goggles at him. 

“But you have to! If I have to embarrass myself on that damn float, you have to ride with me! We’re ride or die, Derek!” 

“Dying wasn’t so bad.” Stiles squawks but Derek just snorts. “Not my kids. Not my problem.” 

Stiles huffs and turns away before saying casually, “One of them asked me out last week.” 

Derek says nothing. 

“They don’t even believe you’re my real boyfriend.”

“Thought you had a picture of me in your office.” 

Stiles huffs. “Are you kidding? I have like three. Of us together. They think you’re a model I Photoshopped in.”

“They’ve clearly never seen your awful Hannukah cards.”

“Hey!” 

Derek just gives him a flat look. 

“Shut up; they’re adorable. … I just … I’ve been there for like 6 years now and no one believes you exist. You refuse to chaperone any of the dances with me. I mean, I know you’re busy with your Master’s now. And … people. But this is after the semester ends. And we’ve never actually even been to a Pride together.” 

Derek just looks at him, unmoved. 

“Don’t make me go alone. Pleeeeeeeeeease? I mean, someone has to save me from horny undergrads!” 

“Which kid.” 

“Which kid?” 

“Which one asked you out.” 

“You know I can’t tell you that. It’s unethical. Like lose-my-job unethical.” 

“You can’t be their counselor after they ask you on a date,” Derek huffs. 

“I can’t give you their name, Derek. Really. … But what can I tell you? Hmmm. They’re a senior. And they just got a job in town, so they’re sticking around after graduation.” 

Derek squints at him and Stiles stares right back with fake innocence. 

“If you’re worried, you should really just ride with me on the float. Protect my virtue.” 

Derek scoffs. “That was gone long before we met.” 

“Dude, you were totally my first anal. You know that. And back when we first-first met I was like 15.”

Derek slaps both palms on his face and shakes his head. “I meant your juvenile delinquency.” 

“Oh.” 

Derek clears his throat. “But your porn folder was pretty kinky too.” 

“Ha ha. Like you knew how to use a computer back when you were on the lam and lurking in high schoolers’ bedrooms.” 

“Strawberryblondegoddess. Blonde with an E.” 

“How the fuck—” Stiles squawked. “Ugh. Such a creeper. Why did I ever agree to go out with you?” 

Derek stares him down. “Who showed up at my loft on his 21st birthday with a bottle of Jack and a box of condoms?”

Stiles blushes. 

“Who sang ‘Happy Birthday to Stiles’ and refused to budge until I agreed to go on a date?” 

Stiles ducks his head and rubs at his neck.

“Who made me dress up and take you to the nicest restaurant in town and then refused to even kiss me until the third date, even though you left the condoms on my dresser to taunt me?”

“So, aaaaaaaaaaanyway, I’m grateful that you have such low standards and all, but—” 

“It was hard to find someone too uncoordinated to shoot me.”

“Ouch, man. I’m a catch!” 

“Yes. I remember that from your boyfriend resume.”

“Whatever, Derek. It worked.” 

“You listed a long tongue, flexibility, and not-a-murderous-psycho as your main points.” 

“Well, I’ve never been arrested for murder, so I think I still win. It’s a wonder Dad ever let me move in with you. I bet he regretted it after he walked in on us that time—which one was the time we—” he pantomimes, unashamed. “He did cancel family dinners right after that, though, so ...” 

“Because you got us permanently banned from Punjab.” 

“Ha! I forgot about that.” 

“The Sheriff loves me.” 

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.” 

“He offered me cash to elope.”

“What? When? What?! 

“During the Jones case. Right before he retired.” 

“No way.” 

“Begged me to take you on a honeymoon.” 

“No fucking way.” 

“Out of the country.” 

“Oh my god!” 

“$5000 wasn’t enough to put up with a week alone with you on another continent.” 

“Duh. We’d need like 10k at least. Each. And that doesn’t even cover holding the panda.” 

“What.” 

“I’m canceling his Father’s Day gift. And your anniversary gift! I can’t believe you never told me that!” 

“I told you now,” Derek shrugs as he goes to take the lasagna out to cool. “Pandas?” he yells back from the kitchen. 

“You, like, pay a fee and then you have to feed them and shovel their shit and whatever, but they actually let you hold a fucking panda and take a photo with it and everything!” 

Derek comes back in, shaking his head. “By now I shouldn’t be surprised that shoveling shit is a romantic trip to you. I really shouldn’t.” 

“But … pandas!”

“No.” 

“You’re the worst.” 

“”No.” 

“Pleeeeeeeeease.”

“Let me think. … No.” 

“No morning bj for you.” 

“Shit. I guess you don’t want to go to Pride with me now.” 

“Like hell. It means you’re damn well gonna ride that fucking float with me to apologize.” 

“I won’t apologize for panda shit.” 

“And I get to pick your outfit!” 

“I will never apologize with sequins.” 

“Duh. You’re ooooooooobviously a leather gay.” 

Derek rolls his eyes. “No one would agree to be on my committee if I rode around in just a leather vest and assless chaps.” 

Stiles’s isn’t paying attention anymore, though. He’s just staring at Derek like he’s tasted chocolate for the first time and mumbling “chaps.” 

“No.” 

“You’re ruining my life,” Stiles whines. “Fiiiiiiiine,” he sighs before sitting up with a jolt. He glances down the hall then back at Derek, tilting his head and chewing on his lip. That escalates to bouncing his knee and chewing on his fingernail as he stares down the hall. “Now?” 

“Now what.” 

“Yup. Now,” Stiles murmurs before jumping up and striding to the bedroom. He sprints back and throws a pair of t-shirts at Derek’s head. 

“What.” 

“Just … you know …” Stiles grabs one of the shirts back and waves for Derek to read the other. Derek sighs and smooths out the shirt. 

“I’m not bi but my fiance is?” He raises an eyebrow and Stiles holds up his own shirt. “I’m not gay but my fiancé is.” Derek laughs so hard tears start rolling down. “Idiot,” he gasps out before pretending to pout. “What, no ring?” 

Stiles smirks and presses something into Derek’s hand as he drags him to bed. 

Afterward, Stiles texts Scott to call him in the morning because he has a hell of a story Scott can use in his best man toast. Scott calls right away, but Derek pins Stiles’s arms to the bed and doesn’t let him answer. “No phone calls. And no pandas.” 

Stiles waits until the afterglow of sleepy morning sex the next day to propose a bargain. Derek is on the edge of falling back asleep and so blissed out that he agrees. He’ll go to Pride but pick his own clothes if Stiles promises to never tell anyone that he gave Derek a cubic zirconia–encrusted engagement cock ring.

**Author's Note:**

> There was no cock ring involved in my marriage proposal, but we do have to omit some details when we tell the story!


End file.
